The Tradition
by Jaylynn Byrd
Summary: Miserable March, the horror of a birthday tradition. A short story account of real life, bothered incessantly and persistently by The Tradition.


On My Birthday

Brown chunks, bits of peas, half a bite of bread… they floated in the bowl as I paid my respects to the porcelain god. Tears mingled with vomit as they dripped from my chin, and I tried to quickly wipe away the dribble of snot leaking down. What was wrong? Nothing, and yet everything. The doctor could not diagnose me, there was no reason for me to be so miserably sick, to be running high fever, retching everything that came into contact with stomach fluid or coughing so horribly that my lungs felt stripped of all feeling but an itching rawness. There was no reason for me to cry without knowing, to ache at every movement… no reason except for Him. I loved him. I hated him. The Tradition had run its course.

I was born in the miserable month of March, and I got pink eye that month. I grew up with a series of the most horrible birthdays, culminating one might think, on my 17th birthday when I thought it could not get any worse. I was deaf on my birthday, a sinus infection having burst both my eardrums. People were blurry colors, sounds a faraway bubble that if too loud, caused more agony to a mind numbed with pain. I thought I was done with the fevers, the colds, the many aching symptoms of sickness I endured every March until the day of my birthday… the day after, I would be fine. The pain would subside, the symptoms disappear. The day after my birthday, I met Him through my best friend, Jessica. Travis and I became fast friends almost instantly. He was just tall enough for me to rest my head in the hollow of his shoulders when tired or in need of comfort. His dark brown hair was always messy, but suited him perfectly. His electric blue eyes seemed to shock me deeply every time I glanced into them. But we were merely friends. Jess still held my fastest friendship, and was there through thick and thin. She knew everything as my regard grew, but I went through two boyfriends and he went through one. Neither of us had much luck in love. Jess was my everything in helping me pick up the pieces.

In December, Travis and I began to hang out more with each other than any of our other friends. Right after Christmas, we started dating. He was perfect in every single way. Jess was the amazing best friend who knew everything, and shared my happiness. I was living on cloud nine, in perfect bliss. School was wonderful, he was wonderful, she was happy for me and the best friend I could ask for. I won second place in the Cha-Cha and Foxtrot at my first ballroom competition. I had two marvelous months of joy as I wandered along the lane of love, learning so much about him. We talked of everything, of books and music, video games, places we wanted to go, what we wanted to do… we'd play games with each others families, and his adorable autistic brother learned my name… a feat we'd been trying to achieve for the last 7 months. Everything was perfect. We went to Preference together.

It was a fairytale theme, and we each chose princesses. I was Aurora, and he was Prince Phillip. We had a delightful day date, and as both of us are competitive, won most of the games we played. Our teamwork was excellent, and we were a flawless couple. The dance that night was perfect. I felt like a princess in my silken dress, and he was ever the Prince is suit and manner. We went on a carriage ride, and when there weren't enough seats, I sat on his lap and laid my head on his shoulder, and we talked quietly as he held me, his jacket round my shoulders to ward off the bitter cold. Nothing could have been better that night, and inside we played with cameras, had fun, danced every dance, occasionally switching partners in the group for a song. I taught him a few steps of the waltz, and wished the night would never end. I was ecstatic for weeks afterwards, and Jess especially laughed at how much I seemed to be floating on cloud nine. I didn't care if they made fun of me… I was too happy.

My ballroom partner, however, seemed to have a different idea. He asked me to Prom, and as it is my policy to go with the first person who asks me, I said yes. I wasn't thrilled about it. After all, he had just deprived me of my senior Prom with my boyfriend, but I wasn't going to be mean to him and say no. I wasn't heartless. Travis was at a loss as to who to ask instead, and I kept urging him to take Jess, because she was gloomy at not having been asked. I was still disappointed at not going with Travis, or even Troy, another good friend who had wanted to take me, but I didn't want to flaunt that in front of the girls who didn't have anyone ask them. So I told him to ask her. I thought they would have a good time together, after all, they were my best friend and boyfriend. So he asked her at my request, and as they were friends, I didn't think too much about it, and neither did anyone else, since they knew I'd been asked already.

Then came the competition. Stephen and I went out of state with the rest of the Ballroom Team for a major competition, and came back four days later. I'd had a rough weekend, because my partner seemed to like me more than I thought proper, and one of my x-boyfriends was also on the team, and I had to dance with him on some of the team dances… It was extremely uncomfortable, because well, he hadn't taken very kindly to his 'property' dumping him. That's how he thought of me, as his. I didn't like the possessive glares he sent at me and Stephen, and was all too happy to go home. Had I known what was waiting for me, I might have wished to stay there longer.

In the four days I'd been gone, my world turned upside down. I had wondered at Travis' preoccupation when I'd called him Saturday night, but had put it down to me interrupting the usual Saturday night gathering of our friends. I called Jess, and she sounded strangely distant and guilty. I didn't figure it out until the next day at school, when instead of sitting next to me, Travis went and sat next to Jess, giving me a look that sort of said… "I'm Sorry." I was confused, to say the least. Then one of the others took pity on me, and leaned over, whispering softly, "They're dating now, didn't they tell you?"

The looked that filled my eyes must have been pure shock and poison, because several of the others saw it and seemed to recoil out of my immediate reach. The two people I trusted most in the world… I couldn't allow myself to finish that thought. Jess glanced at me and saw the look in my eyes, the shock on my face. She nodded, as if to confirm what I'd been told, then leaned into him, putting her head in that little nook I had so long used. Travis looked confused for a moment, then settled, putting his arm around her. All of my friends were avoiding my gaze, glancing guiltily at the ground, as if they could have stopped the two who seemed unabashed. I stood and walked away. What more could I do? I felt as if my heart was breaking into tiny pieces that I could never pick up. I felt completely and utterly betrayed. What I hated more was how much I hated them… and still loved them. I was miserable. March had begun.

Prom turned out to be a fiasco. I was sick, and my eyes ever strayed towards my group of friends with whom I could not part, and could not be a part of. Stephen acted a complete jerk, for when I did talk to some of my friends, he would not come find me or talk to me, he would sit there and merely time me to see how long it took for me to go looking for him again. By the end of the night I felt completely exasperated, and sick to my stomach. I had thrown up several times in the course of the evening. I had lost nearly thirty pounds in two weeks. I could barely speak in a whisper, and whenever I tried I began a long series of hacking coughs that seemed to never end. I got little to no sleep at night, it being kept at bay by frequent trips to the bathroom to empty my stomach of even acid. I'd been to the doctors, and they could find no cause. It was the curse of my tradition. A tradition of sickness and misery one month of the year.

My birthday finally rolled around. I was miserable all day, and had made as sure as I could that as few people knew it was my birthday as possible. However, it got out, and my friends leaked it to teachers. I was embarrassed. I looked terrible, and got to have the eyes of everyone on me in such a state. They thought it would be nice to have my classes sing to me. I hated them at that point. In my third period, when they began singing after my favorite, but extremely sarcastic, teacher had made some quip about it. I felt my cheeks burning red, and they thought it was embarrassment that made me put my head on my arms atop my desk. I was still, forcing the sobs to remain silent as tears streamed down my face. Happy 18th birthday to me.

My family took me to the local steakhouse. I ate a little steak, with some peas and their delicious bread. I couldn't help it, I was feeling a little better, the day was almost over. The bench we sad on made my back ache, for it was made for people larger than I. We went home, and I opened presents. As they lit the candles, I started crying. They all looked at me so concerned, but I could not understand why I was crying. I had merely started, and now I could not stop. With a halfhearted blow I got half my candles out, then ran to the bathroom to throw up the contents of my stomach. They lay there, floating in the bowl as I looked at the variety they were tonight. Brown, green, and off white pink. I had paid my homage to the porcelain god. I was miserable, crying, and felt completely slimy with traces of snot. All the tissue in the world seemed to make no difference. Finally, I gave up and went to bed, not a word to my family. They had pushed me, teasing me tonight. They did not know that everything was taken literally in my benumbed mind, and that it seemed as even my own family was determined to shred my self respect and sanity.

I woke up the next morning oddly rested. My cheeks still felt stained by tears, but it didn't hurt to move. After a shower I felt clean… I had not coughed once. I ate breakfast in silence before the rest of the house got up. I felt… wonderful. Completely fine. My throat was lubricated easily with my breakfast, and my voice was good as new. I had all the energy in the world, where I had been lackadaisical. I went to the park to meet with my friends as we did every Saturday, and they were surprised to see me smiling painfully at Travis and Jess, to whom I had not spoken or looked at for weeks. I felt a pang where my heart used to be. Travis was just as stunning as ever. I was still as in love with him as ever, despite everything. I forced myself to walk towards them, and others cleared out of the way as if trying to get out of the battleground. They were as startled as I was to hear me saying softly,

"I'm happy for you two. I just want… you to be happy." There was no malice in my voice or manner. They nodded slowly, as if to wait for the time bomb to explode, but the explosion was absent. We spent four hours playing volleyball in the bright sunshine. I got hives on my legs from the grass as usual. But I didn't care. Yes, I still loved him. I still cared deeply for her. I hated their actions. But I was forced to admit that as much as I love him, they were also good together. I had realized that. Ten months later… I know I still love him every time I see him. But they're still together… and I'm happy for them. My only cause for worry is simple… my 19th birthday is coming closer.


End file.
